Save the Cathedral and the Ursulines, there is very little of record concerning churches at that time, though they were springing up here and there.

All there is certainty of is that Pere Jerome's frame chapel was some little new-born "down-town" thing, that may have survived the passage of years, or may have escaped "Paxton's Directory" "so as by fire." His parlor was dingy and carpetless; one could smell distinctly there the vow of poverty.

His bed-chamber was bare and clean, and the bed in it narrow and hard; but between the two was a dining-room that would tempt a laugh to the lips of any who looked in.

The table was small, but stout, and all the furniture of the room substantial, made of fine wood, and carved just enough to give the notion of wrinkling pleasantry.

His mother's and sister's doing, Pere Jerome would explain; they would not permit this apartment--or department--to suffer.